


Can I Still Be Robin?

by LuthienLuinwe



Series: Chronic [3]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Chronic Illness, Damian Wayne is Robin, Dick Grayson is Batman, Gen, Insulin Pump, type one diabetes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-02
Updated: 2018-06-02
Packaged: 2019-05-17 11:15:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14831252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuthienLuinwe/pseuds/LuthienLuinwe
Summary: “Hi, Mr. Grayson?” Damian groaned and rolled over onto his side and cursed the school policy that parents and guardians had to be contacted in the event of a so-called emergency. It wasn’t even that big of a deal. “Yes, hi. This is Nurse Amy from Gotham Academy calling about Damian?” The phone call wouldn’t do anything but cause Grayson to panic. “Yes. We need you to come pick him up. He passed out during lunch."





	Can I Still Be Robin?

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for my cousin, who is a type one diabetic.

“Hi, Mr. Grayson?” Damian groaned and rolled over onto his side and cursed the school policy that parents and guardians had to be contacted in the event of a so-called emergency. It wasn’t even that big of a deal. “Yes, hi. This is Nurse Amy from Gotham Academy calling about Damian?” The phone call wouldn’t do anything but cause Grayson to panic. “Yes. We need you to come pick him up. He passed out during lunch. He’s fine now. School policy. Great, see you soon.”

Damian rolled back onto his back and stared at the paneled ceiling. Even the best private school in the state couldn’t afford anything but a subpar drop ceiling. He shut his eyes when the lightheaded feeling from before he’d passed out came back and tried to focus on keeping his breaths deep and even.

He had thought he was getting whatever illness one of his classmates had shared with the school. That certainly would have explained the nausea and the lightheadedness. Though it wouldn’t explain why he was thirsty all the time and why he would get sudden bursts of energy that he couldn’t control. “All right, Damian,” the nurse smiled too brightly, speaking to him as if he were a baby. “Your brother’s on his way.”

Great. Between becoming Batman, dealing with Father’s death, and being sick himself, Damian was the last thing Grayson needed to worry about. 

He must have fallen asleep. Because the next thing he knew, Grayson was sitting beside him, concerned look on his face. “Hey,” Grayson smiled when he realized Damian was awake. “Come on. Let’s get you home.”

* * *

They went patrolling the next night. His heart was pounding in his chest and he could feel his pulse thumping in his ear and he had energy he needed to burn off, but he didn’t know how. He’d been uncharacteristically talkative, and he could tell Grayson knew something was off, but he was glad Grayson hadn’t done anything to push him.

But his head was pounding and he couldn’t stay focused on any one thing. “Robin!” Grayson shouted, and Damian knew something was wrong because Grayson never shouted at him. He turned to demand what was wrong. His eyes went wide and he ducked to avoid a projectile that would have landed straight between his eyes.

He watched as Grayson swiftly knocked the assailant out and tied his arms behind his back. “We’re done tonight.”

“It’s only two…” Damian tried to argue, but Grayson held a hand up to stop him. Normally he would have argued, but the look he saw on Grayson’s face, the look of mixed worry and relief, kept him quiet. 

“We’re going home.”

And Damian glared at Grayson’s back as he followed him back to the Batmobile. He crossed his arms in the passenger seat and leaned against the car door. It wasn’t fair. Mistakes happened, and as much as he hated to admit it, he’d made them before. Granted, none of them had almost gotten him killed.

“You okay?” Grayson sighed as he shifted the vehicle into gear. And Damian just nodded because he knew it was the answer Grayson wanted to hear.

* * *

“I do not need to go to a doctor,” Damian crossed his arms and glared at Grayson who had just ended a phone call with the family physician. “I am perfectly fine.”

“You passed out at school and you almost got shot,” Grayson reminded, though his tone was not as harsh as Father’s would have been. “Not to mention I’m pretty sure you’re due for a check-up anyway. You’re going.”

Damian crossed his arms and huffed, but followed Grayson to the car anyway, knowing there would be no point in trying to argue with his guardian about it. Once Grayson started worrying about something he didn’t stop. Life would be easier if he just proved everything was fine and moved on.

 

“Has he been fasting today?” the doctor asked Grayson and Damian glared at the woman. He was more than capable of answering questions himself. He wasn’t a child. He didn’t need someone to speak for him.

“No,” he answered before Grayson could say anything.

The woman had pricked his finger and poked a vein. The larger blood work would take longer to come back, but the finger prick had been returned almost immediately. “Interesting,” she nodded before pulling Grayson out of the room.

* * *

Type One Diabetes. It was ridiculous. He was created to be the most superior of all the humans. The perfect weapon his mother had wanted him to be should not have had to rely on some stupid device pumping insulin into his body. And yet that doctor had claimed that Damian would be needing it for the rest of his life.

And as much as he would never admit it to another living soul, he absolutely hated needles. Another thing he would have to get over, he supposed. “Hey Dami,” Grayson smiled and sat across from him. How could he be smiling after receiving that news?

“Tch,” he huffed and crossed his arms. His fingertips hurt from being stuck so many times, and he kept getting the wire to his pump tangled and caught in things.

“Got you something,” Grayson continued. Damian raised an eyebrow and glanced across the table. Grayson slid over a silver-plated bracelet with a medical alert symbol on it. And Damian wanted to swipe it to the floor and watch it clatter to the ground. He didn’t need another constant reminder. 

And then he remembered where he had seen a bracelet like that before. And he glanced over at Grayson’s left wrist. Sometimes it was easy to forget he was sick too. Especially since he hadn’t had a major flare in months. _Grayson, Richard J. SLE. Plaquenil. Latex Allergy._

“Jay has one too,” Grayson commented and Damian rolled his eyes. The last thing he wanted was to be associated with the ever-unpredictable Red Hood. 

And he glanced at the bracelet on the table. And he picked it up. _Wayne, Damian. Type 1 Diabetic. Insulin Dependent._

“Can I still be Robin?” he asked, his voice sounding more fragile than he had ever wanted it to. Because he had finally found something he truly enjoyed doing, something he couldn’t imagine being taken away from him so soon. And he was terrified that Grayson was going to view his status as a liability.

“Yes,” Grayson smiled and shook his head before patting Damian on the shoulder. “You can still be Robin.”


End file.
